


Giving In

by Walking_in_Wonderland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Comfort, Fluff, Grumpy Natasha, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 07:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walking_in_Wonderland/pseuds/Walking_in_Wonderland
Summary: Natasha is trying to get ready for finals, but is struggling to focus. When Clint suggests she might be getting sick Natasha nearly throws him out the window.Or that one where grumpy Natasha refuses to admit she is sick.





	Giving In

For the third time in ten minutes Natasha blew her nose as she stared at the screen of her laptop with bloodshot eyes. She chucked the tissue over her shoulder, and it bounced off Clint’s ear. He batted at it a second too late and ended up with a lapful of used tissue.

“Can you at least throw your plague tissues in the garbage instead of throwing them at me?” he asked in disgust as he picked up the tissue to throw in the garbage as if it were hazardous waste.

“No.”

Natasha broke into a series of watery coughs that made Clint roll his eyes and abandon the textbook he’d pretended to be studying.

“You’re sick.”

If looks could kill the bleary-eyed glare she shot in his direction would have killed Clint stone dead. He threw up his hands in surrender and scooted backward out of her reach. He’d learned better than to be within hitting distance when he made her angry.

“I am not,” she spat and turned back to the computer. She squinted at the screen to read through the notes she had pulled up only to realize she’d already read that page three times. She ran a hand through her messy red curls and shivered. The room felt as though it had gotten five degrees colder than it was twenty minutes ago. She wanted to turn up the heat, but the thermostat was so far away, so she stayed where she was with the blue light from her computer making her skin look sallow and corpse-like.

An icy hand reached out to press against the back of her neck. She realized belatedly - after already elbowing him in the gut - that it was only Clint, and that the cold felt nice on her hot skin. He groaned behind her and dropped back to the floor with a loud thud. She turned to give him another glare which he was used to by now.

“Jesus Christ, Nat, no one is in here but us. Why the hell did you hit me?”

“That’s what I do to people who take me by surprise. You brought that on yourself.”

He sat up, rubbing his aching side. “You have a fever. You are sick.”

“Bullshit,” she growled. “And if you say that one more time, I will throw you through that window.”

“You can deny it all you want, but it’s true,” he retorted and stuck his tongue out at her for good measure.

She considered getting up and making good on her promise to throw him out into the snow, but the ache in her head, the pressure in her sinuses, and the way colors looked too bright made her think better of it. Instead she spun back around to try once again to read her lecture notes. She had a huge test the next morning, and she didn’t have time for all of Clint’s ridiculous claims about illness.

He let out a very disgruntled “hmph” but didn’t press the issue. They sat in silence for the next half an hour, interrupted only by Natasha’s coughs and sniffles. She hunched over her computer reading the same lines of notes over and over while Clint sprawled on the floor once again pretending to read a textbook when he was really looking up funny pictures of dogs on his phone.

In the half an hour of silence, Natasha swore the room got even colder. She shivered in her seat and had to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her eyelids were heavy and the pressure behind her eyes made her sure they would pop out of their sockets at any second. She wasn’t sick. She didn’t have time to be sick. A test, three classes, a work shift, and two meetings were all on the schedule for the next day. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she would cancel them.

“Cold?” Clint asked as he dropped a blanket around her shoulders.

“No,” she muttered and pulled the blanket tighter around herself.

“It’s because of the fever, you know.”

She spun around and her head started to spin. She swayed dangerously in her chair as she snarled, “Clinton Francis Barton I swear I will rip out your spleen-”

“Wow you’re cranky when you’re sick.”

He caught her and held her steady in her chair as the room spun and her stomach churned.

“I just need a short nap, and I’ll be fine,” she insisted when the room had come mostly into focus.

“I’ll help you to bed if you take these.” Clint held out his hand and offered her a bottle of fever reducer.

She shoved him away with a snarl. “I don’t need your help.”

As soon as she tried to stand the room turned upside down and she swayed on her feet. Before she knew it Clint had his arms around her, catching her just as she tipped too far to her right and almost tumbled right into the corner of her desk.

“I thought you didn’t need my help.” He raised a teasing eyebrow at her. She swung a fist in the direction of his face, but her heavy limbs and bad balance made her miss and fall into his chest. This time he laughed outright and hugged her to him. She didn’t resist and instead lay with her cheek pressed against his chest.

“Where are the damn pills?” she demanded.

His hand appeared with two small pills at the ready for her. She scooped them up and swallowed them down without bothering with water. Satisfied, Clint hooked an arm around her waist and helped her hobble through the kitchen to her bedroom. He deposited her on the bed where she curled up with the blanket he’d given her draped around her shoulders, but she didn’t bother with the one under her.

Clint rolled his eyes. “You are the worst sick person I’ve ever met.”

She turned just enough to narrow her eyes at him.

He pulled her back up off the bed, despite her moans of protest and pulled back the comforter. As soon as the blanket was peeled away she dove back into bed and pulled it around herself. She burrowed deep into the blanket and closed her eyes.

“Five minutes,” she mumbled.

“Right,” Clint chuckled as he turned to leave.

“Don’t go.”

When he turned he found her staring at him with the blanket lifted enough for him to slide in next to her.

“I thought you were fine.”

“I am.”

He shrugged, holding back a smug grin as he walked back and climbed into bed next to her. She let the blanket fall back over both of them and nestled into his side.

“You’re feet are freezing,” she grumbled.

“I can go.”

She tightened her hold on him and shot him another glare.

“No.”

He laughed. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've been wanting to write a Clintasha fic for AGES, and I finally got one out. Hopefully there will be more ;)
> 
> If you want to see more stuff by me, follow me on tumblr: alifeoflesbionage
> 
> Happy reading lovelies! <3


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